Tell Me Your Woes
by TheAngelofFate
Summary: No matter how much he hated it. This was who he was. A loser. He was no genius, he had no courage, or strength, or friends. Stanley was weak, in more ways then he'd admit aloud, he was just a scared kid living in the shadow of his beloved twin brother. {my take on the Shy Stan AU with no stancest}
1. Chapter 1

I'm writing this because someone sent me an ask on Tumblr and wanted me to write a fanfic about an AU Stan, that didn't change when when he was a small child, he stayed weak and emotional and self conscious. They also want a protective Ford?

This is new territory for me, since I have never gotten an ask, let alone it be something so specific. I honestly don't know how to write this type of Stanley, and I originally wasn't going to write it because of such.

But this idea interests me enough to want to give it a shot.

So I hope you all enjoy it!

* * *

"Stan, sweet pea? How was school today?"

Stan limped as he closed the front door to their home. He walked and whimpered as pain shoot through his leg, his eye, his back and he was pretty sure something was bleeding. Campelter and his gang had ambushed him in front of his car again. Of all their targets Stan was the one they attacked physically, rather then verbally like they did Ford.

They roughed Stan up because they knew he wouldn't fight back. Because he was too scared, because he knew it wouldn't go any good because he stunk at everything else he'd probably screw up trying to defend himself too.

So what was the point?

"It was fine, ma." He said trying to dodge the question and get out from his mother range before—

A light, feminine hand fell on his shoulder and easily spun him around. "Oh honey, what they do to you this time?" His mother asked in a soothing tone as she placed her hand on his chubby cheek. He leaned into it and couldn't help the tears that slowly formed in his eyes.

 _Stupid..._ He thought, frustrated. _17 years old. I shouldn' be this emotional, or this weak._ But he was and that was always going to be something that he hated about himself.

Ford maybe a nerd with a passion for science and loved all things paranormal because of his abnormal six fingers and he may still get teased verbally. But at least Stanford had accepted himself, loved his personality. Was determined to be something great, wanting to prove all those bullies went that he wasn't a freak.

And he has, and Stan couldn't be more proud of him, couldn't love him more. Because— well, they were twins after all.

His mother lead him to a chair at the kitchen table and sat him down gently. "Shh, sweetie. It's alright. Mama will fix it, I'll patch you up right." She spoke to him in such a loving manner that Stan couldn't help the tears that started streaming down his face. His mother was the best, she always supported him in everything he did. She loved him and Ford unconditionally. He really didn't deserve her.

 _Stop crying, Stan._ He told himself, reprimand himself. _Don't be such a wimp._ Why was he such a crybaby? Why was he so weak? He hated it, hated it so much. Stanley lower his head and placed it on the table and wrapped his arms around himself.

"Ma, I'm home." A voice called out as he heard the front door open and closed almost annoyingly. It was Stanford, there was no one else it could be. "S-Sorry, it took me so long. I sort of had to walk home because Stan, for some reason left without—" Ford's sentence stopped as soon as he got into the kitchen.

"Stanley?" His brother asked, nerdy voice immediately filled with concern as he heard footsteps approach him and a gentle six fingered hand fell on his right shoulder. It travel up into Stan's head and petted the brown messy hair, Ford's attempt at getting his brother to straighten up and look at him. To tell him what was wrong.

It worked, but Stanford didn't like what he saw.

Bruises covered Stan's body, his long overalls were torn, his lip was cut and he had a horrible black eye. _Not again._ Stanford thought sadly. _Why can't they leave him alone!?_ Ford wished he could do something, _anything_ to help Stan, it was his job as the oldest to look out for him. Especially since Stan thought so little of himself already, more then even Ford has done. He wanted to help the younger out more, yes with all his might, but he wasn't any better at fighting or defending himself then Stanley was.

When his twin absolutely refused to take boxing lessons like their father had wanted all those years ago, Ford had, in turn, refused also, wanting to support his brother like Ley always did for him. But now though, now he fully regretted that decision wholeheartedly, because now he couldn't help his brother as much as he would like to without getting his own butt kicked. Which has happened on multiple occasions, and it only causes Ley more harm because he feels bad that his genius of s twin is getting hurt.

And honestly Stanford was scared just as much as Stan was of Crampelter. It's the main reason why he doesn't retaliate when he gets bullied verbally. But if he could protect Stan, if he _could_ fight the people that were hurting his little brother then Stanford **_would_** , in a heartbeat.

No one messed with his twin.

Fresh tears formed in the younger's eyes.

Seeing this caused Stanford's breathe to hitch. The one thing he ever liked to see was Stan crying, he couldn't handle it. It broke his heart. "Stanley—! Ley, please— Don't cry, please don't cry." He spoke out desperately as he wiped the tears away with his thumbs.

But Stan started crying regardless, he clung to Ford and sobbed. He couldn't help it, he could no longer keep his emotions together anymore. He needed Ford, needed Ford to keep him from falling apart. "F-F- _Ford_! I can't— I ca-can't! I'm so tir-tired, I have no— no friends! I'm being b-b-bullied all the time! I-I'm so stupid! An idiot, a loser!— I look so _stupid_! My ac-acne, my shirt, my ov-overalls, their horrible and people hate them! I'm not smart like— like you! I'll ne-never get into— college and I'm going to be stuck here _all by myself_! You maybe a n-nerd, F-Ford. But I'm a **_loser_**!"

Ford couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't take Stan's broken words. In an instant he wrapped his arms around the younger in a hug and held him tight. "Stanley! Stop! Don't talk like that, _please_! I'm so sorry this keeps happening to you, you don't deserve this. You don't deserve any of this torment! But you're not stupid, you are not an idiot or a loser!"

"But I'm weak—"

" _So am I_!" He stated firmly. Ley visibly flinched at the oldest voice. So Ford hugged him a little tighter.

"Stan, do you honestly think I could fight off bullies? No, I'm weak too. But that's okay. Because Ley— if you want, you could start taking boxing lessons like Pa wanted, if you want to change the way you dress, you can." Ford said as tears of his own formed in his eyes, slowly he moved and looked at Stan in the face.

Gently, he brushed his thumb a crossed his twin's cheeks to wipe the tears away. "And listen, it doesn't matter if you're not a genius, it doesn't matter if you don't have a ton of friends! Because we have each other. It's always just been you and me, we've done everything together. We're a package deal. Just you and me. And when I go to college, you're definitely coming with me! There is no question about it."

Stan sniffed and leaned into his older twins touch, the tears still falling. "R-Really, Poindexter?"

Stanford laughed and softly bonked his forehead against Ley's. " ** _Of course_** , silly. I'd never leave you behind."

Stanley let out a noise that was between a sob and a laugh. Reaching out he placed a hand in Stanford's neck and smile. They stayed like this for a few minutes. Lost in the sea of comfort that they were giving each other.

"Ahem." A voice suddenly spoke out, the two brothers parted and turned their head to see their Ma standing there in the kitchen doorway holding a first aid kit, she had a fond smile on her face as she gazed at her two twin sons. "I know you've both been attached at the hip since birth. But Stanford, if you could part from your brother for just a few minutes I just might be able to patch Stan up before I have to call the doctor over here again.

"O-Of course, Ma." Ford stepped away, immediately. But he sat in the other chair to Stanley's left and watched their mother clean and bandage his twin's injuries. Ma smiled at him and reaching over she patted their cheeks, lovingly. "That's my sweet boys. Lookin' out for each other. I am so proud."

Stanford blushed while Stanley laughed lightly and squeezed his brothers hand in a silent appreciation for all that Ford has done for him in the past.

 _Thank you, Sixer._

A smile spread a crossed his face, a smile filled with relief that his twin was going to be alright.

He squeezed back, gently.

 _Anytime, brother._

* * *

Okay, so I did some further digging into this AU, found some fanart and more info and saw that this AU is a stancest AU. The Shy Stan AU. First off, I have nor will I ever write those types of fics, ya'll should know that with me by now.

 _However_ I couldn't help but write a version of this precious shy, weak Stan, one that has no trace of Stancest whatsoever. None. And if it seems like it that was not my intention.

Anywoo, I hope you all enjoyed reading this, please leave your thoughts in a review, they are _always_ appreciated and I will see you all soon.


	2. Chapter 2

Stanley pouted as he gazed at himself in the mirror of the only clothing store they had in town. They sold tight jeans, pink dresses or skirts and baggy shirts that buff guys should be wearing. Which is exactly what Stan had on— well, not the dresses or skirts. He wore a plain white T-shirt and dark blue, slightly lose jeans. With the aid of some hair gel, his brown hair was fully sticking up but not to where it was pointy. It looked neat and combed through.

Stan continued to look at himself. He looked and looked but his expression never changed.

"What's wrong, Stan?" Ford asked as his brother sat behind him. After his little... meltdown three days ago. The two twins decided to finally ask their parents if they could buy Stan some new clothes, as always their mother happily agreed. Filbrick on the other hand blankly stated that he didn't think it would make a difference, saying it didn't matter if Stan changed his image, people wouldn't see him any differently.

Then their Ma proceeded to give them money anyway behind her husband's back.

"I don't— I don't know who I'm lookin' at."

It was true, Stan didn't recognize himself at all. The teenager in the mirror was a stranger. It was like he was looking at a completely different person. Which was what he wanted, he wanted to change his look and be more confident in himself. So he lost the overalls and flannel shirt, but something felt... off. And he didn't like it.

"Well— I think that's sort of the point, isn't it?" Stanford said in his usually nerdy tone he would use when unsure of something. Neither of them had any idea what they were doing. Fashion was more their mother's hobby, Christ... Why hadn't they brought her along?

Stan nodded slowly, but also unsure himself. "Yes..?" Maybe it was his glasses? Raising his hands Stanley removed his glasses and looked at his reflection again. The person gazing back at him was blurry, _horribly_ blurry and it was him, then it wasn't him. His thoughts on how he looked remained the same as before. "Stanford, I don't know about this anymore."

A hand gently lay on his shoulder. "That's alright, Stanley. You don't have to get these clothes if you don't want too."

The youngest turned to his brother. "But you said—"

"I said you could change how you dressed if _you_ wanted too." Ford stated matter a factly. " _Do_ you want these clothes?"

Stan put his glasses back on and shook his head. "...No."

"Okay."

Ley walked back inside the dressing room and walked back out wearing his overalls and a blue flannel shirt. His twin gave him a smile and the two brothers walked out of the clothing store and down the streets of Glass Shard Beach. On their way back home they passed the Movie Theater, which had a line full of people waiting to get inside. Glancing upward, his eyes widened in shock when he saw what was being shown.

He stopped walking and looked at the sign. "Ford!" He said excitedly. "Stanford, look what their showin'! Grandpa The Kid!" He couldn't believe it came out today! Stan completely forgot all about it. The pair of them have been waiting ages to see this movie.

Ford's own eyes widened when he saw the sign. Stan grinned, happily. His twin's excitement matched his own. "Let's go see it!" Ley said enthusiastically. Stanford followed, but then halted his footsteps and shook his head a second later, looking really disappointed. "I can't, Stanley. I have to go home and keep working on my Perpetual Motion Machine."

Right the Science Fair. It was in a month, and Ford was going to need all the time he could get if he wanted to win, which meant no goofing off with his brother. As sad as he was to think this news. Stan only nodded his head. "O'kay. But can _I_ still see it, I promise I won't give away the endin' again."

"Haha." Ford laughed and placed his hands in his pockets. "Sure. Careful on your way home, given the time change recently it may get dark earlier."

"Yeah, alright," The younger stated as he walked into the line. Slightly bouncing on his heels in joy.

For the next few hours Ford worked diligently on his science project.

It had taken him so long to even think of a good enough idea, and when he thought of it, logically he knew that it wasn't going to be easy, but this was ridiculous. Sure, he was almost finished just a few more tweaks here and there then he should be ready and confident for that Science Fair. But still he thought he'd be done months ago.

Pushing his glasses up, Ford ran a six fingered hand down his face and rubbed his tired eyes. He's been working, none stop for three hours straight. Maybe he should take the advice his mother gave him and take a break. Lord knows he deserves a good nights rest.

Then the door to his room burst open, and Stanley ran inside. "Stanford!" He said in an exhausted tone, his breathing shallow and heavy.

Instincts kicking, Ford immediately thought something horrible happened to Stan. He rushed forward. "Stan? What happened? Are you hurt?" Stanley could only smile, cheeks turning red, his breathe came out as a puff of laughter Like he had been through something unbelievably amazing

"Stanley—?"

"Ford— _Stanford_! I... I met a girl!"

Stanford's eyes widened. A girl? Really? Women were a topic that the two of them knew nothing about. Whether it was Ford's intellect, Stan's shyness or both, women their age always seemed to find them boring or weird. Even other 'nerds' like Stanford found him uninteresting. "Wait—"

Fingers grasped his yellow-orange sleeves and Stan laughed again. "Brother, I met a girl, a girl!"

"How? Where?"

"At the Movies!" The younger exclaimed. His smile was never ending, Ford has never seen his brother this excited. "I was waitin' in line to see Grandpa The Kid, when this guy tries to steal this girls' purse. And—" Stan paused, hesitant.

Ford gaped. " _And_? What? What happened?" He pressed the suspense was as hard to deal with then any movie he's seen. Stanley's happy face warped into one of slight shame.

"I punched him."

Stanford was speechless. And his twin seemed to have taken his silence as anger because he started blabbing out excuses and apologies. "I didn't... I didn't mean to hit him so hard that his glasses broke, he fel-fell to the ground... But he—he had a knife, and the girl was scared and crying for help. I— I-I-I wanted to help, Ford."

Hands fell on his shoulders. "Hold on, Stan. I'm not angry."

Stan sniffed and rubbed his nose. "You... You're not?"

"Of course not. Stanley, you stopped someone from doing something wrong. You helped someone that was in trouble." Stanford announced with pride in his voice. Standing up for others was just a step closer from standing up for himself, at least that is what his counselor always says. And this event has given Ford hope that Stan will definitely get there one day. "I'm proud of you."

And he was, there was no doubt about that.

* * *

"—But what about our little free spirit, Stanley?" His heard his mother ask the principle through the doorway.

The principal laughed. "That hermit crab? He'll be lucky to get a job with his C average grades and his shy nature. I mean, he's barely going to graduate High School by the skin of his teeth."

A lump grew in his throat at the man's words. He slid down the door and curled into himself on the ground. He always knew he wasn't going to amount to anything on his own. That compared to his twin, Stanley was just second best. But with it being said aloud, in front of his parents no less, made it even harder to deal with.

"That's— That's not true." Stanley heard Ford's voice on the other side of the door. "Stanley is smart. He's an amazing poet, he can build outstanding model ships—"

The principle didn't sound convincined as he just laughed off Stanford's words. "Can any of those so called 'talents' give him a good life in the future?"

"I— I..."

"—I thought so. Look, there's a Salt Water Taffy store on the docks. Somebody's got to get paid to scrap the barnacles off of it. Stanford's going places, but look on the bright side. Since they only except people as smart as Stanford into West Coast Tech at least you'll have one son in New Jersey forever."

Tears fell down Stan's face. His breathing became rapid, this was it. He was going to possibly have to live without Ford for the rest of his life. The mere thought made his heart ache.

Blindly he got up and the office lady gave him a tissue and was surprisingly kind and told him he could go if he wanted. And he did, without hesitation Stan walked down the halls, past the gym and out the doors of the school. At first he was going to take his car, but then he remembered that Ford had the keys.

His brother has been... rather hesitant to learn how to drive, his nerves become so overloaded that he can't function straight. But it seemed that Ford relaxed more when Stanley was in the passenger seat instead of a driving instructor. So Stan has tries his best to speak to Stanford, telling him that it wasn't as scary as it looked. It seemed to do the trick, because teaching Ford hasn't been that hard.

Shoving his hands in his pockets of his overalls, he walked down the street of the school and left.

He made his way to the only place he felt he was safe. The swingset, the very one down by the beach, the only one that Stanley and Ford have played on all their lives. It's special, it holds a place in both their hearts that will never go away or be filled with anything else.

At least, He hoped so. He hoped that this place, this beach meant as much to Stanford as much as it meant to Stanley, himself.

He sat on the swing, though because of the recent events, he chose to sit on Ford's side instead of his own. Feeling slightly lonely as he gazed at the open sea before him.

A hand fell on his shoulder. And Stan felt movement as someone sat on the other swing. Silence fell, nothing but the ocean brushing up against the shore could be heard.

"It's—" Stanley cleared his throat as he rubbed his sweaty hands against his overalls, nervously. "It's really silly of them to think that you'll want to go to some— some stuffy college on the other side of the country. It's... It's funny."

Ford stayed silent as he glanced at the pamphlet in his hands. "Look, Stan. I can't— I can't pass up an opportunity like this."

The younger twin tried to hide the way his eyes became wet and his throat became unbearably tight. "Y-Yeah." He said sadly. "Yeah, that' fine."

"Stanley—"

"Do—Don't worry, Stanford... I'll be—"

The hand came back onto his shoulder. Stan blinked and fell silent. "Did you forget the promise I made you? I said you were coming with me."

Stanley smiled and forced out a fake laugh. "West Coast don't allow people like me on campus, Stanford."

* * *

Apologies if nothing really happens in this chapter, but I had to cut it short because this was gettin a tad too long for it only being chapter 2.

I should also mention something that I haven't before. Stan is more then just a shy, adorable loser in this Fic, I decided to give him a disorders. First, is that he has asthma, in fact, Ford and Stan both do. But Stan has it worse because he was born with a respiratory infection. But it always baffled the doctor on why Ford never had it as equally as bad. Growing up it only got worse, Stan has to carry an inhaler with him.

He also tends to get sick very easily because of his severe respiratory infection. And it gets worse as he gets older.

Second, Stan has Asperger syndrome. Again Ford has it to some degree, which to me explains why Stan is so shy and so anti-social in this AU and Ford has developed such an interest and love of science.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, please remember to review it and tell me what you all thought, something I will always appreciate.

And I'll see you all soon.


	3. Chapter 3

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Decode at your own risk of feels.

* * *

Night fell sooner then he would have liked. Stanford announced that they should be getting home soon, "Pops doesn't like us staying out too late without him knowing where we are." The tone of his twin's voice as said those words was as if it was trying to sound up beat and reassuring.

Stanley didn't buy it, nor did he move an inch from the swing he sat on. Right now he didn't want to do anything, he didn't care about their curfew or that it was a school night. He just wanted to stay here a bit longer. Wanted to stay in his fantasy that if Ford got into this college that he wouldn't go for the sake of his brother. "I'm... I'm gonna stay here a little longer, okay?"

Ford looked apprehensive about that statement, but nodded a moment later. "A-Alright, just not too late." The younger let out a hum, silently telling his brother that he had been heard.

Stan listened to Ford's footsteps as he walked away. His gaze look out towards the sea again, it had turned a deep dark blue as the sun went down and the moon came out. He took a deep breathe and inhaled the salty air as he tried to think positive. They've... They've always been together. Just them two, Stanley and Stanford Pines. The loser and the nerd. Ford— Ford wasn't that type of person who would choose a college over his own twin who obviously couldn't take care of himself. Right?

Stan needed reassurance, reluctant as he was to leave his safe haven, he needed someone other then his brother to tell him that everything was going to be alright. Someone that saw him for him and didn't think he was a loser.

His girlfriend, Carla McCorkle.

She was the first woman in his life that looked at him and saw past his red flannel shirt, his glasses and overalls. She looked at him and witnessed what he was underneath his shyness. Underneath his Asperger disorder, his asthma, his sickly nature and fear of defending himself. And Stan was head over heels for her. He loved her so much, she was so beautiful and kind. Carla supported him and comforted him when Stanford was doing homework or some big project. He didn't, he doesn't deserve her. She's too perfect.

He made the long walk over to Carla's home, her parents were probably still working at the diner, which was good. Because Stan didn't want to burden such amazing parents with his problems. Walking up the steps, Stanley knocked on the door. "Carla, s-sweetie?" He called out nervously and a little embarrassed, he was still getting use to calling her nicknames.

A minute or two later, the door opens and a smiled filled with fondness spreads a crossed his face. Carla seemed surprised to see him as she stood there in the door way. "Stanley?" Her tone of voice shaky as she wrapped her robe tighter around her, reaching upward she put her messy wet hair in a bun. "What's wrong?" Her expression turned to concern.

He wiped away the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand, the proceeded to wipe his wet palms on his overalls. Stan need to tell her what was going on, maybe she could say something to Ford to change his mind. "U-Um, something happened with... with Ford. I— I think he might leave... Even though he promised that he wouldn't—"

"Carla, baby. Who's at the door—?" Someone's voice rang out from inside the house. The door opened wider, revealing Thristle Downe. A hippie that dropped out of their high school long ago, he devoted his time to his guitar and his hippie car. Thristle's long blonde hair was wet and tied up in a pony tail, he also had his shirt off.

"Who's this?" Thristle asked as he put his arm around Carla and pulled her close.

And Stan thought he heard his heart crack. "C-Carla...?"

"Carla looked at the ground, face filled with guilt. "I'm sorry, Stan. But I'm with Thristle now. I was going to tell you sooner, but I didn't want to hurt you. You have such low confidence in yourself already, I didn't want to break it more."

Tears welled up in his eyes as he took a step back from the couple. His heart felt utter agony, he couldn't believe this was happening. "T-T-Too late."

Carla looked grief stricken at the sight of Stan's chubby cheeks turning red and the tears that started falling down his face. Even Thristle look sad to see him breaking down. "Stanley..." She said as she reached a hand out, a thousand apologies written all over her face, but he recoiled backward and ran down the sidewalk. He lost track of how far he ran, it was all just a huge blur, all he recalled was him running.

The next thing Stan realized he was leaning against some thing solid, his breathing was a combination of cries and short gasps.

Digging out his inhaler, he shoved it in his mouth and took several puffs. It did little to help Stan breathe. But soon after a few minutes he was able to stable his breathing and his cries turned into soft, shaky hiccups. Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand Stan gaze at his surroundings and found himself in the gymnasium. His eyes widened, _H-How did I... get here?_ He wondered. Of all the place Stanley could have ended up it was at the school? What was the door to the school doing open at this hour when it was usually locked up tight?

Getting his legs began moving on his own. His thoughts running rapid. Carla... She had dumped him, thrown him aside like he was nothing. Sure, she felt bad for hurting him but that didn't help. Didn't help the fact that she didn't love him as much as he loved her, or even at all. He choked down a sob, honestly why was he so surprised? Why would a beautiful girl like Carla McCorkle ever be interesting in a shy loser like Stanley Pines? It was pathetic, how foolish he was.

Slowly Stan's feet moved to a stop. Looking up, his eyes immediately landed on Ford's project. His heart began beating in this rapidly as anger took hold of him. Why? He thought. _Why is everythin' fallin' apart!?_ Ever since that meeting with the principle this a few hours ago things just keep getting worse. Carla left him, she had abandoned him for that hippie. And Ford... Stanford was going to do the same thing, he was going to choose some college over his own twin.

He clinched his hands into fists as he sent sharp glares toward the hunk of metal. This— All that was happening, was— was... "This is all your fault, you— you _dump machine!_ " He accused, tears of rage fell down his face as he banged his fist on the table. Then a second later that rage turned to gut wrenching fear as his brother's machine jumped off the table a few inches and landed back down with a loud thud! It sparked out electricity, the vent on the side popped loose and thick, black smoke came out of the hole.

 _Oh no..._ "Oh no! No, no! What did I do!?" Stan exclaimed loudly. He hadn't meant for this! He had never meant to break Ford's science project. His twin had worked so hard on this, he had spent so many hours, weeks, months building it. Yes, he was angry that this thing was taking the only person who still cared about him, away from him. But he would never, _never_ wanted to ruin Stanford's opportunity at having a good life.

He— He had to fix this, he had too, the mere thought of Ford hating him made Stan's stomach hurt. But how? Building things wasn't something he was ever good at. That was Stanford's thing—

His eyes widened. _Ford..._ That's it, Ford would be able to fix this. He would be able to fix things and everything would be just fine. Running to the pay phone near the door entrance he called his house or more specifically Ford.

It rang only once before someone picked it up. Almost like someone had been waiting for someone to call. " _Hello?_ " Stanford's frantic voice came from the other end.

"Ford?"

" _Stanley!?_ "

Stan gulped. "Ye—Yeah, it's me..." He stated as he heard Ford let out a relieved sigh in to the phone.

" _Thank_ goodness _! I was so worried, I thought something happened—_ "

Stan thought he was going to vomit he was so nervous, so upset and scared. "S-Something did..."

Rustling could be heard on the other end. " _Where— Where are you? Are you okay?_ "

 _No..._

"I— I... I broke your project, F-Ford."

There was silence.

"I-I-I-It was an accident!" Stan tried to explain. "I hit the table and—"

The line went dead.

Ford arrived soon afterwards bringing his tools and goggles along with him. He said nothing to Stan as he worked on fixing his damaged machine. Stan could see the hurt in his brother's eyes, the disappointment. Stan had completely crushed Stanford's trust and knowing that was slowly killing him.

"Ca—Can you fix it?"

"Eventually."

Stanley smiled. "Good, that's good." But soon his smile faded as the look on Ford's face remained the same. Maybe... Maybe he should go home, give his twin some privacy to work on his machine. Yeah, that sounded like a good option. Standing up he walked towards the door.

He stops. "Ford? I'm sorry. Sorry, I disappointed you. "

Stanford sighed and put his screwdriver down. "I'm not disappointed, Stan." Ford spoke as he look at him in the eyes. "I'm hurt, I'm _angry._ "

And Stanley couldn't have felt more guilty.

* * *

He worked, he tightened screws, he charged and rewired the security. Stanford went by this rhythm until his hands were numb and even then he continued to work.

Anything was better then thinking of Stan, thinking of what Stanley almost cost him. And for what? Just cause he's — he's— Jealous? Yes, that was what he was, Stan was jealous, and he was scared of Ford going to college. And that he'd be here left behind at New Jersey to... to be all alone.

Stanford shook his head. No— _No, **do not** feel bad for him, he had no right to break something I worked **so hard** to create!_

Why couldn't he see that this was such a good opportunity for him?

 _Ring! Ring!_ Went the gymnasium pay phone.

Ford let out an annoyed sigh, knowing who it was immediately. "What?" He barked into the reviver as he adjusted his glasses on his face.

The voice of the other end was hesitant and small. "H-Hi... Ford. How's your project coming?" Stanley sounded like he'd been crying as his breathe hitched.

But Ford kept a straight face, he will not be bought by his twins own deserving guilt. "I'm almost done."

"That's— that's go-good to hear. I'm glad you were able to fix it."

"Yeah, no thanks to you." Ford knew he was being harsh. But his brother needed to learn that he wasn't going to be forgiven so easily.

Stan's breathe made a choked noise on the other end. "P-Poindexter—"

But Stanford wasn't having any of Stanley's excuses. "No, Stan! I don't want to hear it. You knew how important this was to me, this college is my one chance to out my intelligence to good use, it's my dream and you almost took that away from me." Ford accused loudly finally letting his bitter emotions out into the open. He was angry, he was fuming now, his hands shaking. Ford felt like he wanted to punch something or someone.

"I mean, even a loser like you could have known this was my only chance to leave." He heard his brother gasp and Ford's own eyes widened at what he just said. He had called Stan a loser, the very word he always hated, the word that always made him start crying.

The younger sniffed. "I-I'm sorry I cause you so much trouble, Ford. It-It was an accident, I'm sorry. I'm glad you'll be able to go— go to West Coast and be happy. I love you, Stanford. Have... Have a nice, _safe_ life. Okay?"

Ford let boy another sigh, but this time it was from exhaustion. Really, his brother was being overdramatic. "I have to go finish working, Stan. We'll talk more about this when I get home."

There was a long pause on the receiving end. Ford could hear small muffled sobs. "Y-Y-Y-Y-Yeah, sure. Stanford. S-S-See you la-later."

The line went dead and Ford got back to work.

By the time he finished it was already almost time to present his machine to the official college board of West Couch Tech. He was very grateful to himself that he decided to practice what he was going to say to the Board in front of the mirror with his best clothes on, because if he hadn't he'd be doing so in his PJ's Walking into the bathroom, he wet his hair, making it look presentable and neat.

One by one the rest of the school arrived and went to their own project booths. The College Board walked inside and slowly they went to every student there, crossing name after name off their list for potential students.

Ford adjusted his bow tie as they finally got to him. "Alright, kid. Show us what you got."

And he did just that, he presented his Perpetual Motion project to the three Board members. Ford could hardly contain his excitement when he saw their delighted and impressed expressions. They all shook his hand and congratulated him on getting accepted into their program and couldn't wait to teach him about everything they knew and loved about the science of the world.

Stanford felt like he was flying he was so unbelievably happy. He felt this way all the way home, even though he had to walk cause Stan never showed up. _But_ he wasn't going his reckless brother bring him down. For he was finally going to be living his dream.

"Ma! Pops!" He called out as he through the front door open and ran inside to tell his parents the good news.

"Filbrick, you had _no right!_ " He heard his mother abruptly yell from upstairs.

"I had _**EVERY**_ right to do what I did! He was nothing but a mistake!"

A loud smack echoed through out the home as Ford made his way to his parents room. "How dare you talk like that about him, you bastard! If I constantly didn't see the good in you every day I'd have left a long—"

"—Ma? Pops?" Ford said hesitantly. His mother and father jumped slightly at his intrusion. Filbrick turned to him. "What do you want, Stanford? Your mother and I are busy talking."

He held up his acceptance letter and gave them a nervous smile. "I got in. I'm going to West Coast Tech."

His father smiled proudly. "That's my boy."

His mother's reaction was far from what he had expected. She looked pained but happy at the same time. She looked conflicted as she held his baby brother Shermie in her arms. It was then that he realized someone was missing from their small family, and even if Ford was still angry at him. He wanted to let him know he'd be leaving soon.

"Where's Stanley?" He asked curiously.

His Ma bursted into tears and hugged Shermie to her chest. Ford's eyes widened. "Ma?" He asked worryingly. "Ma? What's wrong?"

Lisa hiccuped and glared at her husband. "Ask your father. It's his fault Shermie will never grow up around Stanley."

What?

He turned to his father, who stood there emotionless. "Pops? I don't understand, what's going on?"

Filbrick inhaled and let it out. "After you told us about what Stan did to your project and left to go fix it. Your brother came back home and got a good yellin' from me." He finished.

" _Ha_!" Lisa laughed out tearfully, bitterly. "That's not all he did! Your father took Stan by the collar and threw him outside on the curb. He tossed him a duffle bag that he's had packed for months. And told him to never come back."

Ford's heart was beating a mile a minute. He didn't understand. "W-W-What?"

His mother placed a hand on his shoulder, tears falling down her face. "Stanford, your brother's gone. Your father kicked him out."

"Hold on now—"

Lis turned on Filbrick. "Your son is seventeen years old, he has no idea how cruel the world is out there, no idea how to take care of himself without the aid of someone else. He has asthma, he has to carry an _inhaler_ everywhere he goes. He has Asperger syndrome, making it impossible for him to trust others, he'll keep to himself and will mostly never ask for help even if he truly needs it!"

Mrs. Pines got right in her husband's face. She loved him dearly, he could be such a loving, caring person in the right lightening. But what he did to her previous shy baby is something she'll never forgive him for. "Stan gets sick easily, how do you think he'll favor when winter comes and he has no where to go but his car!?"

But Ford stopped listening to his parents arguing long ago. His mind was racing and he was having trouble breathing. His thoughts ran back to when Stan had called him in the gymnasium. He remembered the sound of Stan's voice, how many times he stuttered and his breathed hitched in his throat.

 _"I-I'm sorry I cause you so much trouble, Ford. It-It was an accident, I'm sorry. I'm glad you be able to go— go to West Coast and be happy. I love you, Stanford. Have... Have a nice, **safe** life. Okay?"_

 _Have a nice, safe life. Okay?_

 _Safe life._

 _ **Safe**. Life._

Stan had been tossed away like garbage by their father during Ford's phone conversation with his brother. His twin was calling to tell him goodbye and to be safe. Because Stanley knew he probably wouldn't be.

And how did he respond?

 _"I mean, even a loser like you could have known this was my only chance to leave."_

 _Even a loser._

Filbrick didn't even show a sigh of remorse. "This'll be good for the boy. See in' what life is like without Ford will toughen him up—"

The eldest twin closed his eyes tight. "How could you!?" Ford hissed out.

"What did you say to me, boy—"

"Not you!" His voice was hoarse as tears pricked his eyes. "Me!" He accused, berated. How could he have called Stan something so hurtful! How could he have picked a dumb school over his twin!? _It-It was an accident, I'm sorry_. How could he have ever thought Stanley would have broken his project on purpose!? Stan's personality leaked and oozed kindness. What was wrong with him!?

 _"S-S-See you la-later."_

"Stanley!" Stanford muttered under his breathe as he bolted down the stairs, out the front down and ran down the streets of New Jersey. Stan had to be here somewhere, he had to be! "Stan!" He called out, hoping he would get a reply. "Stanley!"

He skidded to a stop when a thought crossed him. Carla. Maybe his brother went to her house having no where else to go?

It was possibly, it was the only lead he had. Running down the block he knocked on Carla's door once he arrived there. "Carla!" He tried looking through the window but it was dark on the inside, "Carla is Stan in there with you!?"

"Stanford?" A voice asked behind him. Whipping around he saw Stan's girlfriend arm in arm with... another male. Thistle Downe, the school's infamous hippie drop out. "Carla looked confused. "What are you doing here?"

"Have you seen— No, no. Wait, your dating Stanley. Why are you? What's he doing—?"

Carla looked down. "I've been seeing Thistle here in secret, I was planning on breaking up with Stan, but I didn't know how to tell him. Until yesterday, he came by my place really upset, but Stan found out about us when Thistle accidentally opened the door."

"You've... You've been cheating on my brother this entire time?" Now it made sense. The fear that Stan was losing Ford to some college, that he was going to be left all alone by himself, combine with the fact that he just found out that Carla has been cheating on him and never truly loved him, must have been too much for Stan to bare and his emotions came crashing down, resulting in his project being damaged.

Carla was to blame, this was her fault. She was the straw that broke Stanley's back. That broke his heart.

"How could you, Carla!? Stanley was in love with you! Did he mean absolutely nothing to you! How could you just abandoned him from some hippie!?" Stanford found himself saying rather loudly.

Carla's expression took a defense. "From what he told me— You were doing the same thing."

Her words felt like someone had shoved a knife into his heart. No, he was to blame. He was choosing to leave Stan by himself while he got to go off an live his dream. But didn't matter anymore. Because what good was his dream of success if his twin brother wasn't apart of it?

Running past them Ford made his way back home. If Stan wasn't out in the open not even where he could see his StanleyMobile, then maybe— just maybe he would call their mother. This was his last chance. If he didn't talk to Stan now, if he didn't apologize and ask him to come home then he probably would never see his twin again.

Tossing the front door open, yanking the phone out of the wall, Stanford ran to his room locked the door, plugged the cord into the wall. And waited. He waited for what felt like eight hours, but really it had only been two.

But eventually, after another hour later, it did ring. And Ford was the first to pick it up. "Stanley!?" He said hoping rising inside his chest.

There was muffled whimpers on the other end. "Stan! Please, say something!"

"H-Hi, Ford. I miss you already."

"Stan, _please_ come home." Ford pleaded out desperately. "Please, I need you— to come back home!"

"...I can't."

" _Why!?_ " He cried into the receiver. Tears started falling down his face.

"I just can't.

 _This wasn't happening! This couldn't be happening!_ His brother wasn't going to survive out there on his own not without Ford. Stan needed him. They needed each other. "Ley, please—"

"Do you still love me, Stanford? We're still b-buddies?"

Ford covered his mouth with his hand that muffled his sobs. "Yes, of course I do! Your my brother, Stan! Of course I still love you!"

Stan let out a wet, broken chuckle. "Thank you, Ford."

The phone cut off and the dial tone started.

"STANLEY!?"

 _No! No no no no!_ He didn't even get a chance to say he was sorry. To apologize for ever abandoning his twin. And now Stan was— he was—

Stanford let out a shrilled scream as he took the phone in his six fingered hands and chucked it against the wall.

"Stanford Pines! What is going on in there!?" His father called out as he banged on the door. "You know the rules, that phone is not allowed in your room! Give it back now!"

A hot, white fury blazed within the young genius. Picking up the phone he threw the door open and shoved the plastic thing in his father's face, slamming the door shut, and locking it once more.

Ford, incoherently walked over to the bunk bed they had shared. He stared at the bottom bunk the one Stan had chosen to claim —after a bad encounter with the top bunk made him terrified of heights— as his own. Mindlessly, he picked up his twin's pillow. It still smelled of cheap cologne Stan had bought to impress Carla on one side, but the other was 100% Stanley. That clean smell of baby-wipes and toffee peanuts.

Tears welled up in his eyes as the smell brought back memories, memories of just the two of them running around, playing in their room, looking for adventure on the beach. Some nights in those memories they would get nightmares and they seeked comfort within the arms of each other to calm themselves down. Then there were memories of promises. Of a promise that they'd stay together.

Now looked what happened.

Ford let out a choked sob as he hugged the pillow to his chest and collapse onto his knees and cried for the brother he had hurt. The brother who's heart he had broken because he was being selfish. "I'm sorry!" He sobbed out clinging to the pillow like a life line. That if he held onto it enough then Stanley might suddenly appear like in those old movies they use to watch as kids.

"I'm so sorry, Stan. I-I should have believed you! I'm sorry! I'm the worst brother ever! Please, come back home." Logically, the nerdy, socially-awkward, genius knew that no amount of pleading could bring Stanley back.

His twin brother was gone, fate left unknown.

Blindly he climbed in Ley's bed and curled into himself and continued to sob. For the first time in seventeen years Stanford and Stanley Pines were all alone. They were alone without the other. They were alone grieving for their mishaps.

Both left wondering when exactly did everything go so wrong.

* * *

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Decode at your own risk of feels using the Decoder Ceasar -3 Cipher TheMysteryofGravityFalls website.

* * *

AN: Sorry for the long wait on this one guys. Been busy with all the holidays that have passed and are coming currently, like New Years Day, which is my birthday.

But anyway I hope you all enjoyed all the feels drenched throughout this chapter.

Please remember to tell me your thoughts on this chapter in a review, and I will see you all soon.

Bye Bye!


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